


Well, what can I say? I’m a badass

by AteanaLenn



Series: Steter(ish) shorts [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Creature Stiles Stilinski, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Humor, Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Murder Husbands, Steter Week, Steter Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-04 16:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteanaLenn/pseuds/AteanaLenn
Summary: “Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.”“You’re certainly something.”“Excuse you, I’m the best thing that could ever happen to you.”Written forSteter Week 2018(Creature Stiles and Murder Husbands AU)and thesarcasm prompt: “Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.”





	Well, what can I say? I’m a badass

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello :)
> 
> This is my first fill for [Steter Week 2018](https://steterweek.tumblr.com/post/174835604073/steter-week-2018-themes). It was supposed to be just the first prompt (Creature Stiles), but ended up fitting another too (Murder Husbands AU) lol. I have something started for MH too, but it's not finished, so who knows.
> 
> I used the [sarcasm prompt](http://denaceleste.tumblr.com/post/173514859477/prompt-list-of-sarcasm): “Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.” to launch the fic. This prompt list is being surprisingly inspirational ;D
> 
> -

“Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.”

“You’re certainly something.”

“Excuse you, I’m the best thing that could ever happen to you.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “So you keep saying. I have yet to see any proof supporting this statement, Stiles.”

“I- I keep you cool during heat waves!”

“Meaning that you leech the heat off me during winter.”

“I can get into small spaces and push out the stuff that rolled under the furniture!”

“Which would work just as well with pushing said furniture, or even using a broom.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m realistic.” 

“I’m pouting.”

“So you are,” Peter sighs. 

Stiles is indeed pouting, which should look ridiculous on a grown-ass twenty-something year old, but just makes him look very kissable. 

“Stiles…”

“No. I’m pouting, I said.”

“If you’re ‘pouting’, does it mean that I can’t kiss you?”

“Yes! Wait, no! What?” Stiles whirls around and almost falls over his own feet.

“You said that you were pouting.”

“That doesn’t mean that you get to withhold the kisses!”

Peter snorts, unable to keep his smile off his face. He pushes the corpse away from the side table, far enough that it's not in line of sight with the TV anymore.

“Well, come here then,” he says, sitting down and patting the seat next to him on the sofa.

“But, dead body?”

“It’ll keep. At least there aren’t any body fluids leaking out.”

“Yet. Dead bodies are disgusting, did you see that last one at the morgue the other day?”

“Yes, I was there, and I also remember being the one having to  _ manipulate _ said dead body because that woman’s cinnamon perfume hurt your sensibilities.”

“She reeked!”

“She did not. You just can’t stand cinnamon.”

“That’s what I said!”

Sometimes, Peter wonders if his eyes will get stuck like the old tales say, from too much eye rolling. “Don’t you want that kiss?”

Obviously, Stiles does because they spend the next fifteen minutes making all kind of nice kissing noises that would make a teenager cringe so hard.

“Did you want to keep him for dinner?” Peter asks eventually, once they’ve come up for air again.

“Na, I’m still stuffed from the rabbit orgy from last week.”

“Really? There were small ones, I’d have thought they’d be fully digested by now.”

“Weeeeell…”

There’s a moment of silence in the room. “You ate the plate of brownies that Derek brought yesterday, didn’t you.”

“Not the whole plate?”

“By which you mean you left me one piece because I kicked a fuss about this very subject just last month?”

“I might have,” Stiles confesses, looking all sheepishly cute with his shoulders almost up to his ears, staring at Peter from under his lashes. 

The little shit is cuddling against Peter, he notices immediately, burrowing himself against his side, his legs curving over Peter’s lap and to the other side of the sofa.

“Don’t you try to ensnare me, I know you, you old serpent.”

“Ooooh, ’ _ Good Omens _ ’ quotes! Good one.”

“I try.”

A new commercial starts on TV and the ridiculousness of the thing catches both their attention for the next few minutes.

“What’s up with the squeezing anyway? Couldn’t you just have zapped his heart with your magic, like you did the last one? It would have been faster.”

“But it’s nowhere near as fun! It worked great on that asshole from the deep, true, but he just went ‘ _ zap!’ _ and then  _ ’squish! _ ’ and done! But this moron tried to pet you! He actually tried to  _ pet you!! _ . No one but me gets to pet your fur,” Stiles finishes with a (real this time) pout.

“And you absolutely had to completely wrap yourself around him? You almost broke the table with both of your weights combined.”

“You don’t even like that table anyway. And also, are you saying that I’m fat?!”

“Darling, you weigh over 100 kg ( _ AN: 220 lbs _ ) in that form. And I happen to know it’s 90% muscles.”

Stiles looks like the cat that got the canary, all smug and preening.

“And 5% stolen cakes,” Peter adds as an afterthought.

“You’re never going to let that go, aren’t you.”

“Twice, Stiles, twice. Those were  _ Derek’s cakes _ , I don’t even remember when was the last time that I managed to get one from the bakery. I’ve seen a kid half your size, dressed all in hipster-chic plaid, almost come to blow over the last cupcake with one of the deputy, the other day.”

“Well, those are good cupcakes,” Stiles admits. 

They share a moment of remembered bliss, daydreaming about Derek’s magnificent confections. 

“So. What do you say we head to the bedroom now. For a  _ nap _ .” Stiles waggles his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Peter says with a slow shrug, as if Stiles can’t feel the vibration of his suddenly twitchy and eager body. “But we get rid of the body, first. I’m not dealing with the smell later.”

“Mmmh. The garden?”

Peter makes a face. “Not again. Isaac almost unearthed the last one during the full moon, I’m not dealing with those hysterics again.”

“Good point,” Stiles answers with his own sneer. 

Isaac and him still aren’t exactly the best of friends. It doesn’t help that, for a predator like a werewolf, Isaac is very much unnerved, or even disgusted by the ways Peter and Stiles have fun. Although Stiles maintains that the ass is just scared of snakes.

“We could put it aside for dad.”

“He’s going to mutter about the murders again.”

“Yeah, but he won’t say no to free food. I caught him almost going for fatty cow steaks, I’d rather he had some real food, you know.”

“Of course, my darling.” 

Stiles wriggles happily as Peter gently kisses his forehead, then lets the man bear his weight as they get up from the sofa. “You mentioned a second point?”

“Second,” Peter says with a knowing glance, “is that you say ‘nap’ like you aren’t going to end up dozing the afternoon away, my pretty slithering lover.”

“Yes, but only after we have some fun!”

“Lead the way,  _ Kaa _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
